Last month I figured out that I'm a 4th generation artist. I came across a photograph of my great-grandmother at her painting easel, and the legacy hit me. I decided to start a 12 month research and writing project about my family.

There's probably no way to dig into the history of a family without finding some really ugly things.

I gave a pair of these earrings to a friend to wear at her wedding. She then wore them non-stop on her honeymoon, sending me selfies from exotic Greek locations.

Growing up, when we would visit my Scottish grandmother’s house, I would climb up the three flights of stairs to the tiny guest room at the top of the house, and from there, clamber through the small door halfway up the wall into the attic.

A few weeks ago, while stirring Thanksgiving cranberry sauce, I realized how attached I am to the wooden spoon I was using.